Fleaing Myself Poem by Zyw Zywa

I look sideways at the flowers
I picked in the woods this morning
they stretch in the warmth
of my bedroom

outside, the rain rustles
over the traffic, the city
hidden behind the soft wall
of the curtains

the light from the clouds
shines broadly around
the candles on the plates
on the floor next to my bed

my skin is showered smooth
I brush the downy hair
this is me, to be loved
and coddled

I stroke my heart
it is not arousing
to whisper to myself
I love you

I stretch and pile pillows
under my buttocks, what shall I
fantasize, here I lie
as a queen